


Billiard Table

by shleeps



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 'some sneaky billiards lovin', Alcohol, Anal Sex, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-established Harringrove, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Steve and Billy fuck on a pool table, Tommy passed out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shleeps/pseuds/shleeps
Summary: Tommy and Steve talked about fixing it up last summer. Repairing the legs, refinishing the wood, maybe replacing the baize. But really never got around to it. Mainly because they would have to take it apart before they hauled it upstairs and who wants to try to do any of that when you could just get drunk and high?Which is what they were right now. Ridiculously drunk and high.Except Tommy had passed out about ten minutes ago, his body on the verge of falling off the pool table and crashing into the ocean of beer cans scattered across the carpet. And Steve and Billy? They were right there with him. Except they were both staring up at the ceiling, drunkenly watching different colors dance across it as the television muttered advertisements. A snore came from across the table, of which earned a blasted chuckle from Billy.“Didn’t take him for the snoring type.” Billy drawled.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	Billiard Table

**Author's Note:**

> the beautiful tags on this post gave me some lovely ideas  
> https://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/post/625398016897122305
> 
> thank you for the inspo <3  
> hope I did this justice!

Tommy had a billiard table in his basement. 

It was stained and the baize had been ripping up around the corners, sure, but the damn thing had been in there since him and Steve’s sixth-grade year. 

His dad stopped using it after they fucked up one of the pockets, and the room had become their weekend getaway package, borderline treasure trove ever since. There were burns all over it from where they snuffed out their joints, a crack in one of the legs from when they jumped onto it one drunken night. Sometimes cans were shoved into the remaining pockets as personal drink holders. 

And even though it was scuffed as all hell and a lot of the balls were missing, they kept it down there for the memories and convenience. It gave other people a place to sit rather than the floor and was pretty fun to lie on and get lost in the smokey haze floating above. 

Tommy and Steve talked about fixing it up last summer. Repairing the legs, refinishing the wood, maybe replacing the baize. But really never got around to it. Mainly because they would have to take it apart before they hauled it upstairs and who wants to try to do any of that when you could just get drunk and high?

Which is what they were right now.  _ Ridiculously _ drunk and high. 

Except Tommy had passed out about ten minutes ago, his body on the verge of falling off the pool table and crashing into the ocean of beer cans scattered across the carpet. And Steve and Billy? They were right there with him. Except they were both staring up at the ceiling, drunkenly watching different colors dance across it as the television muttered advertisements. A snore came from across the table, of which earned a blasted chuckle from Billy.

“Didn’t take him for the snoring type.” Billy drawled.

“It’s  _ late _ ,” Steve mumbled, combing through his hair with a free hand to get it out of his face.

It had been quiet for a while and Steve knew when Tommy got drunk and high, that sometimes he would outright pass out and slobber everywhere in his sleep. That's how the stain right smack in the middle of the table got there. 

Tommy crashed one night in February last year after Carol decided to 'spice it up' with some tequila!

He had never seen two people throw up more than that in his life.

He had never thrown up that much in his life.

But someway, somehow, Tommy had managed to climb up onto the pool table, break a shot glass into the carpet, and drool enough that it seemed as if someone had spilled their drink.

Tommy snored again, all guttural and loud like. Billy laughed.

Steve pulled his joint away from his lips and exhaled. The smoke wreathing between them both, building a transparent wall between them. Obscuring their vision like a light fog. 

The table creaked under them as Billy sat up, shifted closer to Steve. Plucked the blunt out of his fingers. The smoke swept away by the sudden movements and toothy grin written across his face. Steve frowned and sat up, opened his mouth to get onto him as he watched him drag on it. 

Billy turned to him. Hand slithering up to cup his face as he shotgunned smoke into his mouth.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Billy smirks. Watches the smoke flood from Steve’s mouth and licks his lips. His body twists until his legs are up on the table instead of hanging off the end and moves closer to the brunette until he’s towering over him, silver pendant dangling close.

Steve hums. Grabs Billy by the hem of his shirt and pulls him closer until he’s lying on his back again and their chests are flush. Gingerly presses his lips against the others and relishes in Billy’s touch as one of his hands begins to wander. Steve’s back slightly arches from the table as Billy’s cold calloused hand glides under his shirt and across his stomach, the kiss deepening as he shudders. 

They love moments like this, where no one else is around to see them do this kind of shit. Even if it’s for a few seconds because ‘Tommy had forgotten something upstairs’ and left them alone. 

And Steve gets antsy every time without fail cause Billy starts to fuck with him, like it’s some kind of sick, twisted game that may never end depending on whether or not they can drive home and fuck by the end of the night. Billy will start ghosting his hand up his thigh and whispering how he’s going to fucking  _ destroy _ him. Starts to make these scenarios about Tommy walking in on them and joining their charades. Kisses him so hard that it bruises his lips and leaves him whining for more. Cause at this point his dick is  _ straining _ against his jeans and Tommy comes back downstairs completely oblivious to what just happened. 

Part of Steve thinks that Billy loves the thrill, loves the idea of being caught, and knows that when he brings up Tommy it makes Steve’s brain melt. 

Billy just hasn’t experienced Tommy falling asleep while they were there before.

Which is perfect for him, but hell on Steve.

They can taste the beer on their tongues, it’s dancing on their taste buds and driving them to keep going as they pant and groan. He traps Steve’s bottom lip in-between his teeth and indulges in the soft moan he makes. He pulls away just enough to make Harrington whine.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Billy growls, tipping Steve’s head back to give him enough space to paint his pale, unblemished neck with purple. Steve clenches onto Billy’s shirt as he presses his slick mouth to his neck, starts kissing and licking and biting, holding him there as he squirms and mews. Steve tucks his face into the other’s neck, muttering out small curses like he’s trying to tell him secrets. 

“ _ Billy _ ,” he pants, trying to roll his hips into the other’s. All he can smell is  _ Billy _ . Holy fuck it’s all just Billy. It’s the tinge of chlorine in his hair, the cologne and cigarettes seeping from his chest, the alcohol on his breath that he could probably take a match to and it would ignite. He’s dizzy. He whimpers as Billy laps over the juncture between his neck and shoulder, knuckles white from grabbing on. It’s like he’s inebriated off his scent and Billy’s no better.

Steve reaks of vanilla icecream and booze like a whiskey rootbeer float. He takes a few seconds to breathe and lose himself in his neck, panting as he takes it all in and groans.

Billy yanked his shirt over his head before ripping off Steve’s polo, tossing them into the pile of empty cans below them. The baize was itchy from the sweat that had begun wet his back, but with Billy latched on his neck Steve didn’t mind it at all. 

“I’ll never understand why you always insist on wearing jeans, princess.” Billy husked, slipping a hand down Steve’s back until he’s brushing his waistband. Steve’s breath hitches. “So  _ inconvenient _ .”

“Oh-  _ fuck _ .” Billy’s undoing his jean button, planting little kisses down his torso until he reaches his happy trail. Licking a stripe up it because he knows how it fucks with Harrington. 

Steve shudders, biting his lip to cover up a moan as he props himself up on his elbows and watches his jeans get shredded from his body and thrown somewhere else. Then Billy undoes his jeans, takes em, and kicks them off his feet but it’s still hanging off the pool table.

And then Tommy snores again, it’s wet like he just sucked up a bunch of his drool but it’s enough to remind him of the severity of them fucking on the billiard table.

"He’s right there." Steve narrows his eyes at him, all concerned like.

Billy stares at him, glancing over at Tommy before locking eyes with Steve again. ". . .And?"

"We're going to wake him up, let’s just-” Billy dipped his head down and bit at Steve’s inner thigh. Sucked on it and admired the bliss coating the other’s face.

“You weren’t concerned about him earlier,” Billy whispered into his leg before scraping his teeth over the hickey. Steve lowly groaned in response, brows furrowing as he bit his lip again and unsurely started to pull his legs into his chest.

“I know, but-” Billy crawled close, he’s looming completely over Steve, taking up his visual field, and it’s overwhelming. His bulge firmly pressed against Steve’s clothed ass and smirk nearing the other’s lips. 

But, then there was a noise that was all too familiar and sent Steve into fight or flight. The leg.

“The table, get off the table,” Steve begged. Billy lowly chuckled before rolling his palm against the outline of Harrington’s dick, earning a moan out of him. Putting his mouth up to the brunette’s ear and whispering,

“Maybe if it breaks then Tommy boy can join us, how does that sound?”

Steve whimpers, Billy is overpowering him again.

Billy’s voice drops an octave, goes all honeyed,  _ deep _ . “Have him fuck your mouth while I rail you, have him paint your pretty face with cum while I fill you up.” Steve groans and grinds against Billy’s palm,  _ hard _ . “Or maybe you want both of  _ us _ \-- you want both of us to fuck your tight little ass at the same time?” 

“ _ B-Billy-! _ ” Steve squeezes his eyes shut and digs his nails into Billy’s shoulder and neck, trying to thrust and twist into his palm.

God Steve hates,  _ despises _ when Billy gets drunk and high. He gets all touchy-feely and knows exactly what buttons to press. Somehow gains fifty points of charisma and uses them to knock him down and have him begging for more. Billy knows exactly what makes him tick. And he  _ hates _ that.

Especially right now, being a few feet away from Tommy and the table ready to snap underneath them. Steve knows unless Tommy’s knocked out  _ HARD _ that there is no way that he can be quiet enough to not wake him up. That one of the defining features that Billy notes every time they fuck is how  _ verbal _ he is. 

“If the leg is breaking, then we can just  _ shift _ our weight.”

“What-?” Steve doesn’t have enough time to react, because, by the time he realizes what Billy means, he’s already flipped over, ass in the air, and shoved to the other half of the table.

Tommy was right there.

Steve was so close.

He could count every freckle sprinkled across his face and smell the booze on his breath every time he snored. Steve jolted up to tell Billy to piss off and they should just do this on the couch away from him, cause this was risky, it was  _ way too risky _ .

Riskier than anything they’ve ever done and that’s when compared to fucking in the locker room showers, but he  _ knew _ what was about to happen despite any reasoning and concern that could possibly fly out of his mouth. 

Billy cups his hand around Steve’s throat and pulls him up. Bends the brunettes back just enough to where he can press his teeth against his neck to let him know he was grinning like a wolf. His shoulder blades and ass now flush with Billy’s chest and throbbing cock. 

“I hate you,” Steve mutters. 

Billy just laughs. 

“Does he have lube?”

“No, just-“ Steve balanced his weight before gently prying the hand tight on his throat and moving it to his mouth. Licking and sucking on the digits. Admiring Billy’s cock as it jumps as his tongue swipes over them. 

That shut him up.

Billy’s breath is heavy against his skin, he’s almost shaking. 

“You like that?” Steve asks, taking an experimental lick at his palm. Billy swallows hard, growling before pulling away his hand. Slipping it past Steve’s waistband and  _ rubbing _ over his puckering hole. “Jesus  _ Christ _ .”

It’s  _ so _ fucking wet and warm that he loses balance and has to catch himself before he crashes right into Tommy.  _ So _ good that he squeezes his eyes shut and has to cover his mouth to prevent himself from moaning like a cheap whore. 

Billy inched a finger into Steve, using his free hand to slide down Steve’s underwear to his knees and lowly chuckle. Steve gasped. He tried to push back onto the one finger, but Billy worked in a second one, leaving Steve to tremble and attempt to muffle the noises coming out of his mouth. His heart pounded against his ribcage as Tommy snored again.

He was so fucking close to Tommy.  _ Too fucking close to Tommy _ .

He could fucking see the drool dripping out of his mouth.

He could fucking see- 

Two more fingers enter him, nudging and changing direction. Steve choked on air. Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes, he felt like he was about to explode from all the sensations toying with him. Painstakingly and slowly, Billy removed his fingers and licked his lips, watching as Steve tried to back onto them and let out a low whine.

A hand gripped onto his shoulder, fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise. Steve winced, about to tell him to take it easy, but then he heard him  _ spit _ . His cock jumped listening to the slick sounds of Billy spreading it over his dick and his mouth went agape as he pushed the tip into him. 

“Billy, Billy _ , fuck.”  _ Billy chuckles, rocks into him and bottoms out. Pulls all the way out to hear pretty boy moan before plunging back in and snapping his hips. Steve goes to close his legs, a tear falling down his cheek. He’s so fucking flustered and on the verge of losing his mind. Everything is hot, it’s like he’s on fire and he can’t put it out. 

He needs some kind of friction, he needs to cum.

But Billy yanks his legs apart and shoves his face into the baize. 

Holds him there, licks the beads of sweat off his back before shallowly thrusting and grabbing ahold of his thighs.

“ _ Don’t move _ .” Billy snarls. 

Steve doesn’t even respond to Billy. He’s wide-eyed and watching for any disturbance on Tommy’s face. God, he wishes he could kiss him. Wishes he could kiss both of them.

Billy snaps his hips again, leaving Steve to deal with his mouth. He slaps a hand over it, the tears coming back with every thrust and muffled moan. 

Eventually, Billy starts to make little circles, trying to angle his dick just right to make the other scream. Steve would be raking his nails down Billy’s back and pulling at his hair if it weren’t for this damn position. He knew Billy was only doing it to raise the stakes, appeal to some sick side, and piss him off at the same time. Billy finally knocked into his prostate and set Steve ablaze. 

He moans out. He’s gnawing at his knuckles, trying to close his legs again. Trying to do anything to ground himself but can’t do it. He’s panting like a bitch in heat, every once in a while just hiding his face in the green felt below them to get the noises to stop so he doesn’t wake up his best friend that’s inches away from his face. 

Hair sticks to their foreheads from sweat and Steve’s skin burns Billy every time he pounds into his ass. He’s gradually picking up the pace, laughing as their skin violently slaps together and Steve starts to fall apart.

Billy spits in his hand and grabs the base of Steve’s leaking cock. Steve shudders and lets out a quiet wail. 

“Ha-ah! _ Fuck!”  _ Steve cries.

He doesn’t know what to do with his legs anymore, they’re just there, shifting and swaying to every thrust while simultaneously trying to fuck into Billy’s hand. Billy doesn’t even have to do anything, he could just sit still and Steve would bounce on his dick. He has pretty boy wrapped around his finger, and there’s no one that could fucking deny that.

“Could you imagine if he woke up right now?” Billy chuckled, listened to Steve whine. Let out a low growl when heat began to pool and burn a hole in his abdomen. Steve knew that growl, felt his dick twitch and the fire spread through his body. He’s so fucking close.  _ So so so close _ .

“Billy, Billy, I,  _ ohmyfuckingod- _ ”

Billy’s snarling as he cums continues to ram into him until he hilts the other, pumps into him. Body jerking as he holds him there and digs his fingers into his hips. 

It’s like a deathblow on Steve. His back arches and tips his head back to get his face as far away from Tommy as he can. He’s violently shaking and tensing as cum strings onto the billiard table and coats Billy’s hand. Clenching onto Billy’s cock as it jerks. Writhing and sobbing and moaning with every breath as Billy’s warmth fills him up. 

They stayed there for a while, listening to each other's jagged breathing as they came down from their climax. Billy was the first one to do something. Slowly pulling out and letting go of Steve’s hips. Letting the other lie down and giggle.

“That’s one stain that’s never going to come out.” Steve huffed as he stared at the strands of white soaking into the green felt. 

“At least we didn’t snap the leg.” Billy remarked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I want to knock you out.”

“Heh, sure.” Billy chuckled, wiping his forehead. Fuck the baize was itchy. He made a low groan of disgust as he slid off the end of the table and smirked. “Maybe next time, Tommy can actually participate.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his face flushing with red, opened his mouth to tell him to shut up before Tommy cut him off with one of the worst snores he’s ever heard in his life. Billy roared with laughter as he watched the horror drip onto Steve’s face. Maybe they would have to fix that leg soon. 

Because who knows, maybe next time they fuck it’ll finally snap and they’ll have to explain to a hangover Tommy Hagan in the morning how his pool table broke from the sheer force of Billy’s thrusts. 

Or they could just tell him that he jumped on it again.

_ Either or _ .


End file.
